


The Robot and the Demon

by ProgramasaurusRex



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7414948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProgramasaurusRex/pseuds/ProgramasaurusRex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurie insists that all guests at her party remove their shoes. Gilfoyle is reluctant to comply. Takes place during 3x09, "Daily Active Users"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Robot and the Demon

"Mr. Gilfoyle," said a voice behind him in the doorway of the guest bedroom. "I thought the sign at the front door was clear. Shoes are to be taken off in my home."

Gilfoyle turned around. "Would you believe it's against my religion?"

"No, I would not," said Laurie. "You are a Satanist, as you have stated on several occasions. I am well versed in all of the major modern religious traditions common to this geographical area, and Satanism holds no such rule. In fact, as you are in my lair right now, you are honor bound to offer me respect."

"I'm impressed," said Gilfoyle.

"One must be intimately familiar with the customs of other cultures in the business world," Laurie explained. "Many Satanists dwell in California. In fact, I attended a traditional gathering of Satanists once for research purposes. While a fascinating system of beliefs, I found many of the practices a bit too lascivious for my tastes."

Gilfoyle smirked at the thought of the CEO of Raviga attending a Satanist anything. The woman was so tightly wound she could be a grandfather clock.

"Your shoes, Mr. Gilfoyle," Laurie reminded him.

"It's just Gilfoyle," he said.

"I do not believe in nicknames," said Laurie. "I can refer to you as Mr. Gilfoyle, or Bertram, if you prefer, as we are in a somewhat social setting."

Gilfoyle frowned. Nobody called him Bertram, at least nobody in this country. He turned to leave, but found his way blocked. 

"Bertram Gilfoyle," she said, her face six inches from his "you will remove those loafers, or I will remove them for you."

For the first time, Gilfoyle considered the woman before him as a woman and not just a business entity. Small as it was, her frame radiated authority from every inch. She was old enough to be his mother. He had never known a pair of brown eyes so cold, a frown so fixed. Her poker face matched his own. He found himself oddly affected by this paragon of feminine power.

He said, "Have it your way," sat down on the bed, and held out a foot.

Taking him literally, Laurie bent down and eased Gilfoyle's left shoe off his foot. He held out his right foot, and she took off his other shoe. Then, she started to stand up. 

Gilfoyle stopped her with a firm hand on the top of her head. "Is there anything else you'd like to remove while you're down there?"

Laurie looked up at him. "Mr. Gilfoyle, I am often mistaken in these matters, but you appear to be flirting with me."

"That's probably because I am flirting with you," he said.

Laurie stood up. "This is acceptable," she said. Unhurriedly, she walked to the door, closed it, and returned to the bedside.

Suddenly she struck. Before Gilfoyle could do more than blink, Laurie had deftly flipped him onto his back, removed his trousers, and pulled her dress up above her hips. "Be quick," she admonished him. "I have many other guests to attend to."

Ten minutes later, she exited the bedroom, warning him to wait a few minutes before following.

Gilfoyle put on his shoes.


End file.
